


Not Interested

by CaptainPeggyCarter21



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aromantic Asexual Natasha Romanov, Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Dark Past, Domestic Avengers, Drinking Games, Friendship, Gen, Mild Language, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Not Canon Compliant, Platonic Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22679521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainPeggyCarter21/pseuds/CaptainPeggyCarter21
Summary: This is semi-canon compliant. I just really wanted to write about Bucky being part of the Avengers family. This is what I imagine it would be like if he'd come back with Steve after CA:TWS.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Avengers Team, James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31
Collections: Gen and Aro Prompts (Any fandom)





	Not Interested

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Dodoa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dodoa/pseuds/Dodoa) in the [GenAndAroPrompts](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/GenAndAroPrompts) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> I'd love to read about any of those tropes that usually end in the characters having sex or proclaiming their undying love for each other, you know the 'they have to share a bed, because the hotel was fully occupied' kind of thing, except without that part at the end, they are friends and that's exactly how they like it.

Bucky groans to himself, reading over the card in his hand. This is why he didn’t play stupid drinking games. Due to the limited availability of Asgardian booze, he and Steve are only allowed one pass every three rounds. Bucky passed on the last round, opting to take a shot rather than sharing his worst nightmare with the group. It could be worse, though. Steve had just spent an entire minute seducing the player to his right, which happened to be Tony. And Tony really knew how to push Steve’s buttons. Bucky almost feels bad for him.  
Almost.  
Steve’s the one who roped him into this game. If Thor hadn’t left his liquor behind after the last visit, Bucky wouldn’t have made it this far. Taking a deep breath, he reads the card aloud.  
“Let the player directly in front of you sit in your lap for the rest of the game.” He looks up. ”Alright, Nat. Come here.” He unfolds his leg and sits up straight, watching her stand up.  
She bites her lip and raises an eyebrow before sauntering over.   
_It could be worse_. He reminds himself, taking a long drag of his whiskey. When she takes a seat on his thigh, he slides a hand around her waist and pulls her closer, shifting underneath her.  
“What’s wrong, Barnes?” she chuckles, leaning in closer. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”  
 _Yes_. “Not at all,” he growls with smirk. He lets his hand linger on her hip until Barton finishes his poem for Wilson. Uncomfortable isn’t the right word. Disinterested, maybe.  
Wilson serenades Hill, who takes a shot instead of sharing her most embarrassing memory from high school. As the game continues around the living room, Bucky shifts again, pushing Nat closer to his knee.  
She leans against his chest and whispers, “Sure you’re alright, soldier?”  
The corners of his lips twitch as he glances down at her. “I’ve had to pee for twenty minutes, and you’re not helping.”  
“Go on. I think I can handle myself,” he snickers, patting his shoulder.   
He breaks into a grin. “Yeah, well, you’re cutting off my circulation too. I don’t think I could walk if I wanted to.”  
“You are so high maintenance.” She lets out an exasperated sigh. “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend.”  
“Oh, and you’re so laid back?”  
“Barnes, I couldn’t be easier.”  
He lets out a snort. “Alright, doll.” He presses against her back, signaling her to stand.  
When he returns from the bathroom, Sam holds out a full shot glass. “Game's not over.”  
Bucky glares at Nat lounging across his armchair. “You’re joking right? It was two minutes.”  
Sam raises the glass toward Bucky and shakes his head. Bucky looks around the circle. Nat snickers to herself. Tony grins like an idiot. Steve avoids eye contact.  
Clint snatches the shot from Sam and passes it to Bucky. “Rules is rules.”  
Bucky points at Sam. “Ass.” He downs the shot and glares at Clint. “Holes.”  
Nat moves out of his seat and sits back on his lap.  
“No, no, no. I took the shot. You go back to your spot.” Bucky shoos Nat away.  
“That’s not how the game works.” Tony wags a finger.  
Bucky glances around again.   
Steve shrugs. “Rules is rules.”  
Bucky finishes off his glass of whiskey and gets up to pour another. On his way to the kitchen, he stops and turns around, Sam has another shot in his hand.  
“Just give it here.” No point in arguing. Clearly, no one is going to let him skip out on the “fun.”  
The whiskey, as it turns out, was a bad idea. When he leaves for the bathroom after two more rounds, he takes his shot. When he returns, he walks into the middle of “nose goes,” and, of course, loses, forcing him to take a body shot. Off Hill. Neither are thrilled.  
Each time a challenge requires him to stand, he takes another shot. When anyone else gets to choose another player to complete a task, they point straight to Bucky. Unless he can figure out a way to keep Nat in his lap, he takes another shot.  
 _They’re not so concerned with the Asgardian liquor supply now._  
By the time Hill calls it quits and Pepper has demanded Tony return home, Bucky’s head is swimming. Certainly not drunk, but enjoying himself. It’s entertaining to watch everyone else embarrass themselves, and if watching him do ridiculous stunts make everyone else happy, then so be it.  
“Alright, Romanoff,” Clint gives her a stern look, “last one, make it good.”  
She rolls her eyes and leans forward on Bucky’s right thigh to turn the spinner. It lands on dare. Of course. She clears her throat and reads, “Kiss the player directly to your left for fifteen seconds.”  
She looks across Bucky and smiles at Steve. “Looks like you and me, Captain.”  
As she stands, Sam throws a hand in the air. “Not so fast. Nat, would you mind raising your left hand?”  
She pulls her eyebrows together, unwinding her left arm from Bucky’s neck. “What?”  
Sam cracks a smile. “I believe the card said ‘directly to your left,’ not Buck's.”  
Nat glances at her left hand, now resting on Bucky’s shoulder. “Shit.”  
Bucky finishes his drink and pulls Nat back down into his lap. “Come here, kitten.” The game’s over. He’s willing to be a good sport. Certainly he can remember something from 1945.  
She leans in, closing the distance between them and turns her face to Steve. “You got a timer?”  
“Ouch,” Bucky lets out a chuckle. “You know, I used to be pretty good at this.”  
“I’m sure.” She snakes her hand behind his head and pulls him back in.  
Fifteen seconds is a lot longer than he thought. And she’s never been timid. He lets her lead, which is new for him.  
His face flushes, and it must be redder than he thinks. When Steve’s watch beeps, Nat pulls away, tugging Bucky’s bottom lip one more time. Steve and Sam stare at them, wide-eyed.  
Nat stands up, and Bucky clears his throat. “That’s the game, right?”  
As the others nod, he takes his glass to the kitchen. Dropping it in the dishwasher, he proceeds to his room without another word. The bed creaks under his weight as he sinks into the mattress, not bothering to climb under the blankets. He tugs his shirt over his head and drops back. People are exhausting.   
He closes his eyes and, before he knows it, wakes up in a cold sweat. Images of Zola and Rumlow and a hundred other scientists and handlers whirl through his mind. He’ll never get away.  
Rubbing his face, he pulls himself out of bed and trudges to the kitchen. Absorbed in his memory, he doesn’t notice the light. Nat closes the microwave and turns around, nearly colliding with Bucky.  
His hands fly out, grabbing her shoulders before she stumbles backwards. “You know, for an ex-assassin, you’re not very coordinated,” he chuckles.  
She taps her fingernails on her mug, her knuckles brushing against his skin. “You know, if you wanted to be close to me, you could just ask.” She raises an eyebrow at him, eyes trailing down his chest until they land on her mug cake.  
“Right.” He releases her arms and rubs the back of his neck, noticing for the first time that she’s only wearing an oversized t-shirt. “Sorry. I was- uh- just kind of out of it.”  
“Yeah.” She takes a fork from a drawer. “I heard."  
He clenches his jaw. “What do you mean?”  
“Nightmares like that don’t tend to leave you in a good headspace.” She shrugs, shoving a forkful of cake into her mouth.  
“I’m fine.” He clears his throat. “Nothing too bad.”  
“You know,” she smirks, “for an ex-assassin, you’re not very good at lying.”  
The corners of his lips twitch up and he looks away. “You don’t have to- I don’t expect- I’m fine, really.”  
“Relax.” She pats his metal bicep as she skirts around him. “I get them too.”  
“No, you-” he shakes his head. “Not like that.”  
She narrows her eyes at him from the couch. “Do you remember a man called Ivan Petrovich?” She watches his face tense, nostrils flaring, and nods. “Me too.”  
He makes his way around the couch and stands in the middle of the living room. He looks at the floor and rubs his temples before squaring his shoulders and looking in her eyes. “I know you.”  
“Like I said, I get them too.” She pats the cushion beside her. “Why I’m out here eating cake.”  
“Then,” he sits hesitantly, “you going to share?”  
She holds out her fork, laughing. “Don’t let this get out. I don’t share with everyone.” She leans into his side and turns on Netflix.  
“Yeah, well, I don’t cuddle with anyone.” He wraps his arm around her. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”  
After they finish the cake, Nat stretches across the couch, resting her head in Bucky’s lap. He combs his fingers through her hair and props his feet on the coffee table. He focuses on the movement, letting his heartrate slow. As his muscles relax, he sinks into the couch.  
Nat doesn’t say a word, just nuzzles against his legs occasionally. Her rhythmic breathing is comforting. The TV screen begins to blur and his head grows heavy. He lifts Nat, careful not to wake her, and maneuvers so he’s laying on the couch with her on top of him. He lets his eyes fall closed and takes a deep breath.  
“Hey, Buck.” Nat looks up at him, “did you like that game at all?”  
He squints his eyes open, looking at her over his cheekbones. “It was fun.” He waits for her to offer more information. “You seemed to enjoy it pretty well.”  
She shrugs. “Yeah, I always like a good family game night.”  
“That was not a family game,” he scoffs, tugging gently at a knot in her hair.  
She half smiles. “It is when this is the only family you have.”  
“Fair enough.” He shifts so he can see her without looking down his nose. “So, you didn’t care much for the game itself?”  
She rests her head against his bare chest. “Not particularly.”  
“Huh.” He shakes his head. “Figured it was right up your alley.”  
“And why's that?”  
“I don’t know.” Heat creeps into his cheeks. “You’re always so…”  
“So what, Barnes?” She glares.  
“You know.” He shrugs and motions to the t-shirt that barely covers her black, lace panties.  
“Are you saying I’m easy?”  
“I don’t have a clue what you are.” Laughter rumbles from his chest.   
She looks up, studying his face. “Do you want to find out?”  
“I- what?”  
She sits up and turns to smirk down at him.  
“Nat.” He scoots up to lean against the arm of the couch, bringing them face to face.  
“Yeah?” She slides her hands across his chest, pressing her fingers into his skin.  
“What are you doing?”   
“I have this hunch.” Her eyes trail down his body before meeting his eyes. “You’re not like the rest.”  
He stifles a groan as she leans into him. When she nuzzles into his neck, he wraps his hands around her hips, keeping her from moving closer.   
“Listen, Romanoff-”   
“Oh, it’s Romanoff, now?” she whispers before sitting back. She gently takes his face in her hands and locks eyes with him. “Buck- James, I-”  
He shakes his head. “Nat, please don’t.”  
“No, I need you to know.” They both take a deep breath and a smile breaks across her face. “I’m not interested either,” she snickers, sliding off his lap. “Nothing personal.”  
He lets out a shaky laugh and turns to face forward. “How is it not personal? You’re the biggest flirt on the team.”  
“That’s how I was trained, Barnes. It’s where I’m comfortable.” She shrugs, looking away. “And also why I have little interest in actually pursuing anything.”  
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and focuses on his hands. “You think you ever will?”  
She looks him over, studying his hunched back and labored breaths. She rests a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot. Give yourself time to work it out before you worry about anything else.”  
“Steve wants me to be alright,” he sighs. “I’m pretty sure he rigged that game somehow.”  
“Yeah, he can be a pain that way,” Nat chuckles, “But you’re not.”  
“It’s all still in there.” He runs a hand through his hair, leaning back.  
“And it will be, maybe forever.” She leans into his side. “Your job is to figure out what ‘normal' is now. Nothing else.”  
He slings his arm around her. “What about Steve?”  
“Oh, screw Steve.” She waves a hand in the air. “And anyone else who tells you what you need.”  
He nudges her elbow. “Is that what you did?”  
“No. Barnes.” She jabs him in the ribs. “I told you. Not interested.”  
“Alright, alright.” He leans forward to pick up the remote and clicks “still watching.”   
He pulls Nat in closer and lets the TV buzz in the background. Nat's right. He has a lot to figure out.   
Three episodes roll through, and Nat stands up stretching. “Same time tomorrow?”  
He pauses the TV. “I certainly hope not.”  
She grins and leaves the room. He’ll see her again tomorrow night. He’s almost certain.

**Author's Note:**

> I did this because I've hit a wall with my current WIPs. I just need a break to get myself back on track. So, I'm taking requests! If you liked this story, give me some ideas.


End file.
